The rumble-splash of the neighbor’s diving board conjures up a long-buried memory.
Our new neighbors are putting to good use the pool that the previous neighbors rarely used. Sometimes late at night, I hear the rumble-thwump of the board, bouncing on its spring, and the memory of my dad going for his nightly dip surfaces like a dream.
I was fourteen and awakening to the interest in boys that was to plague my life for the next fifty years. The local high school had a pool that was open to the public in the summer time and I walked the 2.3 miles to the pool, sometimes in triple digit heat and always in lung-searing smog, nearly every day. It was totally not cool to ride a bike, bikes were for kids and it was totally cool to go bare foot (these were the hippie-dippie days of the sixties). We developed tough, calloused feet as we scampered across the searing asphalt to the relative cool of the painted white lines of the crosswalks.
One day as I was walking by myself, a neighbor of my aunt’s (who lived just a block away from our house), slowed his car beside me and asked me if I wanted a ride. Even and that tender age, I recognized his intent and firmly declined his offer. He persisted longer than mere altruism would dictate, cementing my original opinion of his sleazy motives. I continued walking briskly and when I left the relative seclusion of the orange grove, and approached a more populated area, he moved on. I wasn’t unduly alarmed but I did mention it casually to my mom that Aunt Elaine’s friend’s husband had approached me. Later, I was nonplussed to learn that my aunt had told her friend about the incident and the woman said that I was a slut and was trying to seduce her husband. Ewww ick! He was at least 30!
Shortly after, my folks decided to put in a pool in our back yard. The kids in my neighborhood were thrilled. I was not. The primary attraction of the public pool was the selection of boys with whom I could flirt and sometimes get to give me a ride home.
But the pool provided a respite for my dad who otherwise spent his evenings in front of the TV watching The Joe Pine Show (the Rush Limbaugh of the 60s), The Dean Martin Show, The Danny Kay Show, etc. The pool needed to be brushed and skimmed every evening and after I was in bed, he would clean the pool, then strip naked and dive into the pool to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
Needless to say, I do not peek through the fence when I hear the neighbor’s diving board at night.
judyrutrider 
Haha!! I can’t imagine my father skinny dipping! He was much too conservative (socially but not politically). Besides he couldn’t swim… Anyway I’m very glad you listened to your intuition re: the husband of your Aunt’s friend. That is a sad but real event in the lives of many girls.
LikeLike
Where did your dad grow up? I can’t imagine living in your neck of the woods and not learning to swim as a kid.
Yeah, I had boy cousins so I knew a bit about how males behaved, or misbehaved.
LikeLike
The heart of Chicago and then in Indiana – well away from any bodies of water… Indiana doesn’t have that many lakes! I didn’t have but one boy cousin – and he was always well behaved.
LikeLike
Your boy cousin probably realized he was outnumbered. My cousins all grew up to be gentlemen but they were certainly curious as children.
LikeLike
Probaly you had sex ppeal like it was said in the year 60’s, Judy ! 🙂
Your fater did not know wwin. How did he do to goout the pool.
I do not practice the pools as when I was young there was almost not any pool in France during the war . I learn to swim in a small river ! the after 1945 in the sea.
Love ❤
Michel
LikeLike
sorry for the typos .
LikeLike
I expect most men would find pubescent girls appealing, but they would be wise to understand that young girls don’t find “old” men attractive. At fourteen I think a young man of twenty would have seemed old and frightening.
In Michigan, there are many lakes and ponds, so we all grew up learning how to swim after a fashion. My aunt actually taught swimming lessons but I never learned proper form. It seems like learning to swim in a river could be dangerous.
LikeLiked by 1 person
About learning to swim in a river may be dangerous because the deepth is very changing . And it was not lessons , we learned by oursves ,. This means badly ! 🙂
When I re-read my comment above and I am afraid . It was late in the day and I was certaineluy half asleep! Too much typos . Sorry, Judy.
Love ❤
Michel
LikeLike
Your typos can be forgiven as it amazes me that you can converse in English at all. If I were to attempt French, well…let’s just say it would be unintelligible.
LikeLike
Good story. Reminds me of our pool in the Catskills. As we lived in the middle of nowhere, it was possible to skinny dip late in the evening. You were totally alone as our nearest neighbor was 4 miles down a ways. I would not attempt this in Florida. We have neighbors a stone throw.
LikeLiked by 1 person
There’s something exhilarating about swimming at night, especially when free of binding elastic. One can imagine how a sleek porpoise must feel slithering,,unimpeded through the silky water.
LikeLike
18. I dropped a rim on my big toe, second day of summer job at tire store. Injury precluded any real work for several weeks. I was bummed. Two days later a friend who had the cushiest gig in town, concession dude at the Olympic public pool (with kiddie pool) came by and asked me if I’d like his job. Concession/pool manager dude at a huge pool? Keeper/DJ of the eight-track sound system who would play your tape if you dropped it off? Ten female lifeguards my age ranging to 21? A pool full of teenage girls? I kept that job till school started, long after my toenail grew back. Home pools are cool, no way as cool as big country club and big public pools. Hard ro socialize in your own backyard…
LikeLiked by 1 person
That scenario sounds like you could write a titillating screenplay about it. I always wondered how European men could wear those tight Speedos. Jams were much better camouflage for a young man’s interest.
LikeLike
Elsers skinny dipping? You can’t un-see that. I remember my sister telling about a vacation where her son snuck off to the nude end of the beach. He got an eyeful, alright. Apparently it was a hangout for wrinkly old people.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yeah, I was never tempted to peek. Based on what I see of clothed people, I certainly don’t care to see more.
LikeLike
I remember when I thought 14 year old girls were the most wonderful and intimidating creatures in the world. Luckily, I was about the same age at that time.
LikeLike
That sounds like a healthy response. There’s something untrustworthy about men who like young girls and hate cats. The pattern suggests an unhealthy need for control.
LikeLike